Audience of One
by MegsD2
Summary: Can an introverted, awkward social outcast move beyond heartache and discover that while life and love don't always turn out as we plan, sometimes that's not necessarily a bad thing?
1. Chapter 1

**This first chapter was initially a drabble based on a banner entry for a TwiFicPics Weekly Banner Challenge (the link to which can be found on my profile). When the banner won (because it was totally amazing), and I asked the artist, MidnightTrain, if I could adopt it for the story she agreed on one condition - I answer the looming question.**

**I'd like to thank my LOVELY betas for this chapter, Katmom and PerAmore91. You ladies are the best!**

**P.S. This is my very first WIP. I'm hoping to update regularly, barring any destructive events or severe writer's block. :)**

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><p>It had been four days since they last spoke, but the wounds still felt fresh. The words stung as if they had just left his love's lips. Edward sat in a metal chair, its uneven legs causing him to rock back and forth in tempo with his heavy breaths. The thump of the music and thrum of the crowd seemed to grow louder with each passing moment, making the claustrophobia nearly unbearable.<p>

He held his hands tightly over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing out the sights and sounds. Forcing out everything on the other side of the wall he faced. He focused on his breath, the quick gasps slowly forming into something more reasonable and calming. He felt his sanity returning, inch by inch, until he was able to think again. About something other than fear.

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><p>It had been four days since they last spoke, but Jasper wished it had been a thousand. His disgust and horror at their conversation still lingered, though he had not really thought about it since. He felt no need to dwell on what was ruined.<p>

He threw his bags into the passenger's seat of his Jeep as he climbed in and the engine roared to life. School had been as mundane as ever, until his Bio professor, Mr. Molina, asked where Edward had been the past few days. It was a simple inquiry tossed out as Jasper was leaving the class, but the pain seemed to shoot through him as though he'd been stabbed in the stomach. He had shrugged and bolted from the room, holding his torso all the way out to the parking lot, not sure if he was going to hurl or cry. Turned out it was both.

Their conversation played through his head again as he remembered the scared, desperate look on Edward's face. He had played dumb, but it didn't work. Edward wouldn't let it go.

_"I'm in love with you, Jasper. You know that, dammit! You knew that! I'm not stupid! I'm afraid and jealous and confused and a thousand other things, but I'm not stupid. I feel the difference here, and I know you don't know how to handle this. But it's out there now, so let's just deal with it."_

Jasper angrily wiped a single tear from his cheek as he pulled out of the parking lot, peeling out for good measure. _Why did he have to go and ruin everything? He was my best friend. My only friend._

His internal struggle continued to pry its way out in the form of moisture, dripping off his lower lids and running down his cheeks. He stopped trying to fight it, letting the tears come and screaming out loud. "_Why_ did he have to say that to me? He did this, not me! He's the gay one, not _me_!"

He revved the engine, reassuring himself and those around that he was strong. Proud. A real man. He wasn't a sissy, like all those boys he saw holding hands in school. He still felt the slaps he got across his face any time his father caught him staring at those boys when he was young. He still heard his father's voice. _"We ain't no sissy family, Jasper. You hear me? Them boys aren't men. We're men."_

Seattle was a different town and different culture, but his father's words rang clear in his mind. He wasn't raised to be one of them. He was a man.

"I can't even talk to him anymore? I know what he said, but he's my friend, Dad. I can't even try?" Jasper stared blankly at the road, knowing he would receive no answer, but asking anyway. "Dad, _please_? I can't function right. He was my sounding board, my wingman, my mentor, my tutor. He brought me to music, and music is my life. He introduced me to my life. He _was_ my life, and I _loved_ my life. I _loved_ Edward."

Jasper froze, his foot easing off the gas as his words sank in. He loved Edward. He had never said that about any man before, not even his own father. But he said it about Edward, and he felt it, too. He was in love for the first time. With Edward Cullen.

The booming music of a nearby club sounded, pulling his attention to the bright neon sign on his left. As he slowly passed the Cat House, he remembered what tonight was. Edward's show. His first opener since his dad's accident. And nobody was there, supporting him. Helping him. Loving him.

Jasper grabbed the wheel with both hands and looked around for a spot to park. He passed over a cross street, focusing in on a parking garage a block ahead, so close.

The bright light and squealing tires came out of nowhere…

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><p>Edward leaned to take one last peek through the curtain, but he felt a rough shove from behind as the coordinator pushed him out onto the stage. As he took the chair placed center stage, he scanned the audience. There were at least 100 people there, but none that mattered. It might as well have been an audience of one.<p>

He strummed his guitar, robotically introducing the sweet love song he was about to play. He sang the words as best he could, but didn't feel it in his heart. His heart was singing a different song, a sadder song. His mouth sang, _Your love is never ending, and deep like the sea. _His heart sang, _If you loved me, you would be here with me._


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi everyone! Thanks for coming to read :).**

**Huge thanks to my beta, PerAmore91, for being so awesome and flexible. You rock!**

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><p>It had been twenty-three days since they had last spoken, but the fresh tears still stung in Edward's eyes, just as they had each morning since.<p>

He wandered aimlessly through his sparsely furnished apartment, dreading the eventless day he was facing – his first in what seemed like forever. He pulled a slightly browned banana from the Tupperware dish he called a fruit bowl and collapsed onto the couch.

Glancing around the room in search of some form of distraction, Edward's eyes landed on a slightly crumpled sheet of paper peeking out of a drawer in his entertainment center. He remembered finding that exact piece of paper only a few days earlier in Jasper's bedroom. Whether it had sentimental value to Jasper or was just an old scribbled drawing that had found its way into one of their music books he didn't know, and probably never would…

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><p>Edward had sat in his usual seat in the back corner of the class, absently doodling on his notepad while he bobbed his head to the music that played in his headphones. He had exactly four and a half minutes until class started, and he wouldn't subject himself to outside influences a minute sooner.<p>

When the bell finally rang, he pulled the small plugs out of his ears and focused his attention forward, dreading the next hour. This instructor had a fondness for group projects, and their midterm assignment was coming up any day.

As Edward had suspected, a couple of minutes into class the announcement was made. Midterms for Art History would be a partner project. On the bright side, for everyone else anyway, the teams were not pre-assigned.

Edward watched as the class scurried around, friends adjusting their seats to be together as they discussed the project selections the instructor had given. When everyone was paired, Edward remained in his corner, alone. He had expected no less.

"Well, Mr. Cullen, it looks like the rest of the class has partnered up, so you'll be doing this one on your own if that's all right with you." Edward sighed with relief, barely noticing the mocking looks he received from a few directions. "Oh, just a minute…" Mrs. Newton rounded the corner of her desk, scanning the attendance sheet. Just as she was about to speak, the door creaked open and the entire class turned to stare at the latecomer, Jasper Whitlock.

There were a few giggles and even some sorrowful sighs from the girls who clearly lusted after him, but to Edward's surprise, Jasper seemed perfectly content when he was told he would be partnered with Edward for the project.

As the rest of the class went about their chatter, Jasper found his way to an empty seat in the buffer zone of chairs students seemed to create between themselves and the awkward boy with the headphones and a grimace. Jasper eyed him curiously when he didn't look up from the notepad.

A few moments of silence passed before Jasper broke the ice, lifting his hand to point at the paper at which Edward was glaring so intensely. "So, do you play?"

When Edward focused on the drawing Jasper was referring to, he saw the shape he was tracing his very first six-string. Unconsciously, he smiled.

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><p>Edward tore his eyes away from the tangible memory, allowing them to land on the banana he still held in his hands. As he began to peel the skin away strip by strip he felt as exposed as the tender fruit inside. He needed something to keep him busy, to keep his mind away from where it begged to be. He couldn't stand the pain.<p>

Just then his cell phone chimed from his pocket. He pulled it out to find a text from his very timely sister, Alice.

_Early lunch? I'm starving._

Alice had an uncanny sense for when Edward needed something, and she always delivered. He didn't know how he'd ever get along without her. He didn't even want to consider it.

_Sure, the usual place?_

_Meet you there in 15!_

Edward stood with purpose, thankful that he had something to look forward to, even if it was just lunch.

He was ready and out the door in no time, and only minutes later he was slowing his bike to a stop in front of their favorite local place, Blueberry Hill, just as Alice was climbing out of her car.

"Hey!" She nearly pounced, dragging him into a hug before he could even get his bike locked up. He loved her enthusiasm more than she knew.

A few minutes later, once his ride had been safely secured and they'd ordered their food, they sat at their usual table near the window.

"So, um, thanks for texting." Edward fiddled with the straw in his drink, swirling an ice cube around the edge of the glass.

"Of course! Since your classes are over I figured you'd be bored." Alice shrugged in her characteristically nonchalant way, making the uproar of their lives seem very normal. Edward loved her for that too.

They sat in a comfortable silence for most of their meal, occasionally making courtesy mention of the good food. It wasn't until their bill was paid that Alice met his eyes, giving him the look he knew would be coming. She always had an opinion about his current affairs, and very rarely kept it to herself. Most of the time he enjoyed discussing his life with her, but lately he preferred to pretend all was well. She saw right through that.

"What are your plans for the summer, Edward?"

"Nothing planned, really. What about you?" She began easy so he didn't push, but his attempt at distraction didn't work.

"Edward…" Alice's voice became motherly, which irritated him to no end. She was his _little_ sister, after all. He didn't need her to take care of him.

"What, Alice? What will my lecture be about today?"

"You need a plan. You need structure, Edward, and you know that. I'm just trying to help."

He sighed, resigned to the truth in her words. "I know."

"Have you been writing?"

Edward's loud, sarcastic laugh startled her. "Yeah, right. I write when I'm inspired, Alice. I'm not inspired. Probably won't ever be."

"Edward, you need to ju…"

"Alice, don't okay? Just don't push this. Songwriting was supposed to be fun. And now it's … well, it's just not."

Alice looked at her lap in a show of defeat before glancing back up to see Edward watching longingly out the window. His sadness was heartbreaking.

She whispered this time, being sure not to sound pushy or demanding. She was just his worried little sister, now. "It doesn't have to be perfect, Edward. You can write anything. Anything that will free you."

Edward bolted from the restaurant a few minutes into the uncomfortable silence that followed Alice's suggestion, insisting he was simply tired and wanted to get some rest. Alice, of course, knew better, but Edward knew she wouldn't be upset for long, so he didn't look back as he swiftly pedaled away.

Not wanting to go home he decided to take a leisurely ride through campus. It was beautiful biking weather, a small breeze adding a chill to the otherwise perfect Seattle summer day. Edward alternated between pumping his legs and coasting as he weaved his way through the buildings and the few people walking around. Edward came to a slow, reluctant stop in front of the Lemieux Library and found himself staring at the lawn that stretched out in front of him. He felt what he thought was an out-of-body experience as he imagined he and Jasper sitting on the grass eating lunch and strumming their guitars, so casually happy with each other's company. The ache in his chest grew as their interaction continued, the friendly smiles and comfortable laughter they shared suddenly taking on a new meaning. Each happy moment they shared in memory seemed like a bittersweet pinch of Edward's reality. He didn't know if the pain was worth the joy of his memory, but he couldn't seem to withdraw. He was entranced.

It wasn't until he felt a tap on his handlebars that Edward realized he had been standing there, frozen, watching an empty spot of grass long enough to draw attention.

"Hey, are you okay?" A girl had stopped and was giving Edward a concerned look. She had taken a few steps back as though she were afraid of him, but the look in her eyes made him think she might have been giving _him_ space as opposed to taking her own. The distance he was accustomed to, but the acknowledgement of him he was not. Especially by someone so obviously above his social level.

The girl was quite beautiful and more done-up than most college girls he saw. She had long blonde waves of hair framing her porcelain-looking face, and from what he could tell through her designer jogging sweats she probably had a body to match. Even if he were so inclined, she would have definitely been far out of his league.

"Yeah, thanks." He dipped his chin once as a sign of appreciation and mounted his bike again, unsure of where to go. His stroll down memory lane seemed to only drag him down further, and after his less-than-pleasant parting with his sister he realized he had nobody to call. He flipped the bike around with a sigh and headed back toward his apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

_**This chapter was a fairly jumbled mess of fragmented sentences and half-completed thoughts before the lovely PerAmore91 got it, so please think of her while reading :). She rocks socks.**_

_**And thanks so much for sticking with me this far! I hope this chapter answers some burning questions.**_

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><p>It had been ninety-four days since they had last spoken and Edward still counted them, each feeling like a thumbtack puncturing his skin.<p>

This specific day, though, provided a double-stab at the thin sheet of glass that had become Edward's wall. He had managed to keep it intact by taking life in small bursts, such as a lunch with his sister or a trip to the bookstore. He could only hold off civilization for so long, though, and today would be a test in his ability to handle reality. He didn't feel ready.

_You can write anything. Anything that will free you._

Edward sat slumped into his couch with a pencil and notepad in hand, sketching random patterns in the top corner as his sister's words played through his mind.

_Anything that will free you… Anything._

The words in his mind seemed to form themselves on the page. He tried not to focus on the fact that he was writing, but rather focusing on his thoughts. They ran seamlessly from one subject to the next, never quite letting him process them in their entirety before skipping onto something new.

After awhile Edward closed his eyes, letting his mind and pencil-wielding hand connect directly with no senses interrupting their flow. His words may not have been legible, but he didn't allow himself to care.

_It doesn't have to be perfect, Edward._ _It can be anything._

When he finally opened his eyes, Edward sighed at the mess on his page. The first few sentences were settled nicely on the soft blue lines of the page, reading _"I'm writing I'm writing these random words jumble in my brain with no format or purpose," _but the further down he went the more jumbled and crooked his writing became until it looked more like a prescription note than anything else.

Edward heard the quick double-honk from the street, indicating Alice's arrival. He abandoned the impromptu writing session, dragging his body into a standing position and adjusting the fresh-from-the-laundry-mat _The Who_ shirt he wore.

His breath came and went in long, anxious draws as he descended the stairs outside of his apartment, equipped with only his keys and a ten dollar bill in his pocket.

The breathing pattern didn't stop when Edward got into the car. Alice was the only person in the world Edward felt he could truly be himself around, and that particular day Alice's temperament happened to match his exactly. The anxiety was palpable, raising a bit more with each mile they drove.

When they arrived at their destination in a small suburb of Seattle, they approached the house with evident hesitance. They knew it well, had grown up there even, but it was a beautifully constructed and decorated reminder of the mother they had lost so long ago, and the nurse's car in the driveway a reminder that their father wasn't far behind.

When they finally entered, Alice went in to see Carlisle first as usual, allowing Edward some private time before his visit. He took the stairs two at a time as he headed for his room. It, along with the majority of the rest of the house, hadn't been touched since his father's accident.

He crossed the room, coming to a stop in front of his once state-of-the-art stereo system and pressing the _play_ button. Debussy softly filled the room, bringing the familiar sting of tears to his eyes. He glanced back at his bed, remembering where he'd been sitting when he got the call from the hospital. His worn copy of Wuthering Heights lay neatly on the floor, looking as if it had only recently been dropped there. Thanks to the housekeeper his parents' fortune maintained, not even dust marred the elegance of his room, indicating the passing of time that had occurred. He both relied on and despised the time warp of his old life.

Alice's time was up far too soon and he found himself at the door of his father's old study, but with nothing to say. He pushed open the door and was greeted by one of the three full time nurses that attended to his father, the once very well-known and still well-respected Dr. Carlisle Cullen.

"Hello, Renee."

"Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Cullen. It's so nice to see you again." She swiftly gathered her things, gently touching Edward's shoulder as she passed. "Today is a good day for him. He'd be so glad that you came"

Renee smiled and left, leaving Edward alone with his father. The only sound in the room came from the ventilator his father's life relied upon.

Edward stood awkwardly at the edge of his father's bed for a long while, staring down at the seemingly lifeless face that lay in front of him. He tried to picture the gentle, inviting smile his father would have if he were awake. He imagined the words Carlisle might use to break the ice, commenting on Edward's most recent accomplishment in school or any music gigs he had upcoming.

Edward wiped away the annoyingly familiar tear that ran down his cheek and clenched his jaw tight, hoping to fend off the slicing pain he felt in his chest. The crushing disappointment was coming in full force, but this time it wasn't from the outside. It was the disappointment he felt with himself that had, as of late, proven to be more painful than any disappointment he caused others. His lack of will and drive was just another addition to the list of losses he unwillingly kept tallied in his brain.

When Alice returned to check on him forty-five minutes later, Edward was in a chair in the far left corner of the room, his knees pulled to his chest and his cheek resting on them. He stood as soon as he saw her, knowing his time to visit was over. As he passed the bed he gently patted his father's hand but remained silent. He could never find the words he thought his dad would want to hear.

"Do you mind if we stop by the store?" Edward's voice cracked as he loaded back into Alice's ocean blue Beetle that matched the color of her eyes perfectly.

"Of course," she said.

They rode in silence again, only speaking when they finally reached their destination and Edward asked to borrow a pen.

He pulled a card out of the small plastic bag he had carried out of the grocery store along with a single long-stemmed red rose. In his elegant script, Edward wrote, _I miss you more each day, and I love you far beyond the time we shared. You are my world. Your husband, Carlisle._

Edward relaxed into the familiar comfort those words brought. He glanced up to meet Alice's tearful expression.

"What made you write that?"

"Well, um…" Edward tried to steady his voice as he continued. "It was the last thing he wrote to her. You know, before. When we came at Thanksgiving. It… was the last thing he wrote."

Edward bolted from the car at lightning speed, thankful for the cold and sobering wind that hit his face the minute his door was open.

As he and Alice gingerly made their way across the well-manicured lawn to the stone arch engraved with their last name, a burst of shivers rocked Alice's small frame. Edward reached to remove his coat, but instead of offering it to his sister he draped it over the left side of the headstone as soon as he could reach it.

"Thank you," Alice said in a small, squeaky voice. "I can't stand to see his name there, like they're just waiting for him."

"I know." Edward wrapped his arm around Alice's shoulders and brought her into his side as she began to cry. "It's okay. He's not going anywhere." He hoped his empty words held some hope for his sister, for they held none for him.

Edward and Alice sat together for a long while, sharing stories of their favorite memories with Esme. Alice's was of a time their mother took her shopping to find an outfit for her first dance. She recalled the sequin dress in perfect detail; even describing the small tear along the zipper due to the cartwheel she did on the dance floor in an effort to impress the school heartthrob, James. They both chuckled at the memory; the laugh never quite reaching their eyes.

"I remember when I told her about me," Edward whispered. "She wasn't upset, or even surprised. She just smiled and told me she was proud. She was proud of me."

Edward's chest tightened in on itself as he struggled for air, forcing his mouth open to drag in whatever ragged breaths he could manage. Before he could go into full hyperventilation he got to his feet and started walking. He didn't have a destination in mind, but anywhere other than sitting atop his mother's grave site would do just fine.

A few minutes into his impromptu and less-than-leisurely stroll, Edward heard his name called from off to his left. He turned to see the source and lost his breath once again.

"Hey, Edward. Didn't realize you'd be coming today, too."

_Too? Why does he think I am here? Why is he?_

"How are, um, things? I mean, how're you doing?" The man's sad sigh was overshadowed by Edward's continuing inner monologue.

_How could he know that my mother was here? That it was her birthday?_

". . . Reason to get out here again. Three months, man, I just can't believe it."

_June sixteenth. Today is June sixteenth. Three months. _The realization morphed into the memory before he had a chance to fight it.

_March sixteenth. It has been three months since… _

The sunken feeling in Edward's gut had told him he didn't want to be where he was, but not that he shouldn't be there. He had known it was the right thing to do, but he felt so wrong, so out of place, and so…

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><p>"Edward, hey." Alice had come up beside him, wrapping her arm around his waist and urging him closer to the gathering. "Hang onto me, you'll be okay."<p>

Edward followed her lead, inching closer until he could hear the Minister's voice piercing the low howl of the wind around them. The air had stayed dry that day, which Edward hadn't thought fair. He couldn't seem to keep his own cheeks dry, but God didn't shed a single tear.

The quieting of the crowd distracted Edward from his irrational blame-storming session, bringing his attention back to the present. Just where he didn't want to be.

The Minister began speaking again, his head lowered and his voice raised. "As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil…"

Just then a wail had erupted from a woman standing just ahead, her long blonde curls shaking with the intensity of her sobs. It was Jasper's mother.

Edward's composure began to slip with every passing second. He snuck out of Alice's light grip, and his scuffed Doc Martin's squished into the soggy grass with every backward step he took. His heel landed on a hard, uneven surface just as a small woman squeaked behind him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Edward reached down and awkwardly wiped off the woman's black shoe, apologizing once again. He turned toward the front one last time, directing a silent prayer to the large pine casket on which the attention of the crowd was centered.

_I love you, Jasper Whitlock._

"Edward?" Alice stood in front of Edward, looking at him with a curious expression. "Where're you going?"

"Alice, I have to go. I'm sorry, I just... I can't..."

Edward turned and began to jog; praying Alice wouldn't try to stop him. He felt too weak to handle his current situation, much less the pressure she added to it. It wasn't until he had nearly barreled into a large man standing at the edge of the graveyard that he came to a stop.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Edward said sheepishly. "I seem to say that a lot lately," he added under his breath.

"It's all right. What are you here for?"

"Um, well, that." Edward aimed his index finger at the crowd gathered in the distance. The man sighed.

"Yeah, me too. Couldn't stay, though." He took a breath and then said, "I'm Emmett. Emmett Whitlock." The man stuck his hand out awkwardly, waiting for Edward to reciprocate. He didn't.

"Whitlock?" Edward stammered the word out, not understanding the connection that should have been obvious.

"Yeah." Emmett sighed, his voice shaking. "Jasper was my brother."

_Brother? _Edward tried to sort through the facts he knew about Jasper, finally landing on the key he had been looking for. _"My brother, Em, stayed with our mom most of the time. It's probably why he stuck around back there; she's not crazy like Dad was. I just had to get out." _Edward clung to the memory of Jasper's voice in his mind and the times that had seemed so effortless for them. He would have given anything to be back in that moment with his best friend, ignoring the foreign feelings he had always carried and just being present. Happy.

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><p>Edward was slowly pulled back to the present, his senses accosted with the small person fluttering around him, her fingertips running along his arm and her light perfume helping to reorient him.<p>

"Edward? Hey! Edward!" Alice's voice seemed distant, as though she were calling his name from the opposite end of a tunnel. His surroundings swirled around him as he tried to maintain his balance.

"Three months," was all he could manage. Then his vision went black.

When he came to, he saw two faces hovering above him. He jerked up to a splash of water in the face only to smack his forehead against something small and hard.

"Ow! Edward!" Alice whined, setting the bottle of water on the ground as she rubbed her cheekbone.

"Hey, man, are you okay?" Emmett seemed genuinely concerned. He was hovering over where Edward had been laying, poised on the balls of his feet as though he were ready to run for help at any moment. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No, I'm okay. Thanks, though." They both stared at Edward expectantly until he couldn't stand the silence any longer. "I just, uh, didn't realize it, okay? I didn't know. Or, I forgot. I forgot? How could I forget?" His words seemed to direct themselves inward rather than at the audience he still had, but he didn't care. He kept talking. "How does someone just forget something like that? It's not even possible. I couldn't have forgotten Jasper. I mean... I..."

Edward didn't notice the tears rolling down his cheeks until Alice surreptitiously pulled a Kleenex out of her purse, stuffing it into his clenched fist. He glanced up to see Emmett's sympathetic eyes bouncing between Edward's and the ground, clearly uncomfortable. Edward seemed to have that affect on everyone lately.

He couldn't have gotten away from there soon enough, but he tested that theory anyway.

Later that evening Edward was finally able to settle back into the quasi-comfort of his tiny apartment. It took less than a minute for the loneliness to sink in again, though. The lack of a focal subject or activity slowly began to seep into his pores, overwhelming his thoughts. They circled around the one thing he didn't want to think of, taunting him with his memories.

The page that sat in front of him caught his eye, thankfully pulling his attention away from the haunting thoughts. He felt his face form into a smile as he once again examined the mess that was his writing adventure from earlier that day.

_That was today?_ Edward thought to himself. _It feels like so long ago._

He picked up the abandoned pen again, remembering the soothing he felt when he'd written those words, even as illegible as they'd turned out. He closed his eyes again, letting his thoughts flow through his hand and directly onto the paper. He was surprised when they didn't immediately center around Jasper, but instead his father. Unusual, but equally as difficult.

A few minutes passed and Edward opened his eyes to examine his progress. What he saw shocked him.

His words were placed almost perfectly on the page, resting lightly on the thin blue lines of the college-lined paper on which he wrote. He read them silently, maintaining a deep, even breathing to help ward off the tears.

_Father. Dad. I miss you. I know that sounds silly and juvenile, but it's true. I do. Sometimes I don't know how I function. I had a test a few weeks ago in Bio, and I tried to call you to see if you wanted to help me study. I don't know what I was thinking. It was almost like everything was normal again. Like I forgot. I've been doing that a lot, I guess. Forgetting._  
><em>I went to see Mom today. It's her birthday, you know. Of course you know. Yeah, it was hard. Just like it always is. Alice went with me, too. She helps. You know that, too.<em>

The period at the end of his sentence was more of a line, as though is pen had just kept going. When the words started up again, he understood why. He hadn't prepared himself for what he didn't realize he wrote.

_Jasper is gone. Just gone. I don't know what happened. I don't know why. We had a fight, Dad. The last time I talked to him we fought. And then he left. And then he died. Just like Mom. Almost like you._  
><em>I don't know why this keeps happening. What did I do? Why can't I love anyone? I didn't want to love him. I tried not to, but I couldn't help it. And then he left, and was taken away. I'm afraid for Alice. I'm afraid for everyone. I'm afraid for anyone near me. I guess I'm afraid for me, too. <em>

The only reason Edward stopped reading was because the words were shaking below his eyes. His hands trembled uncontrollably as he tossed the paper back onto the coffee table in front of him.

He felt his chest tighten with the pressure of his sorrow and of his fear. The panic rose like bile in his throat, threatening to explode. He felt the attack coming.

Edward closed his eyes and twisted his body, hanging his legs over one arm of the couch and resting his head on the opposite side. He attempted to even his ragged breaths, practicing what his father had taught him years ago, when the attacks had first begun.

_Inhale... One, two, three, four, five... Exhale... One, two, three, four, five... Inhale..._

He followed the same pattern, his breaths slowly evening out with each cycle. It took a few minutes for the pressure in his chest to subside, but, in time, that went away as well.

Even after the attack passed he maintained the slow breathing, counting each of the seconds in his head. He heard the numbers being called off in his father's calm and level voice, just as they had been that first time so long ago. He could almost feel the soothing hand gently rubbing his forehead as he nodded off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

_**HUGE thank you to the Beta-tastic Peramore91, this chapter is readable because of her :). She should get paid for betaing my stuff.**_

_**And thanks for sticking with me! I'll try to maintain a better schedule for the final few chapters! Hope you enjoy :).**_

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><p>Edward yanked on a stubborn dresser drawer a little too hard, pulling it right out of the slot. He let it fall to the floor at his feet as he opened the next, tossing the clothes around his room. He didn't remember what he was looking for, but the destruction of his property seemed to soothe him in a strange, dysfunctional way.<p>

"God dammit!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, but still didn't feel relief. "What does he want from me?"

_He doesn't want anything from _you_. He wants what is rightfully his. It's not his, though! It's not Emmett's stuff; it's Jasper's. Why does he want it?_Edward shut off his internal monologue before the inevitable truth screamed inhis mind once again. As if his entire life wasn't a daily reminder of what he had lost. "Screw you, Emmett!"

He reached down to the next drawer, tugging it again with all his might and falling to the floor in the process. The drawer didn't budge.

"Dammit," he whispered, moisture filling his eyes as he sank into the desperation he had been trying to ignore.

He stayed there on the floor, sobbing for a long while. His thoughts were jumbled and incoherent, but they held one common message. He was alone.

The emptiness in his chest began to take over, subduing the emotional dominance and helping him find calm. He rubbed the tears from his swollen eyes, opening them again only to see what he had been looking for. Unwilling to move, he just stared at the small black object wedged under his dresser as though it were an alien life force trying to communicate with him. Or, maybe, the Holy Grail.

* * *

><p>"Where is that damned pick?"<p>

Edward had eased the front door closed, gingerly making his way across the front room and away from the direction of the angry words and subdued sighs. He knew he shouldn't have been there, but in his rush to leave the house he had forgotten the already-late term paper he needed for class. He wasn't about to lose a best friend, a lover and fail a class all in the same day.

Edward made it safely to his bedroom, leaving the door ajar as he took the two short strides to reach his desk and shuffled through the pile of papers it held. Sheets of music and hand-written lyrics dominated the mass, but he knew the exact location of what he needed, lifting off about one-third of the pile and pushing aside a crumby plate to reveal the forgotten assignment.

He turned swiftly and clumsily, jerking toward the door and smacking into the body in its place.

"What the hell are you doing back here? I thought you left." Jasper's disgust was hardly masked, though is voice had been level in its delivery. "Did you have something _else_ you needed to confess?"

"N... I, uh… I just needed to grab…" Edward tripped over his words, unable to form coherent sentences. Whether it was out of fear or guilt or sorrow he didn't know, but Jasper didn't give him time to think that through.

"Whatever, Edward, I don't want to talk. I'm just looking for my pick. Have you seen it?" Jasper looked away, obviously avoiding any type of eye contact. Confrontations had never been his strong suit.

"Um, n-no. I don't think it's, uh, in here." When there was no response, audible or otherwise, Edward's gaze flashed up from the carpet fiber he'd been studying, daring a glance at his friend's face. Jasper's expression was withdrawn and sad. Almost guilty.

"Edward, look, I guess I should probably tell you this." Edward returned to studying the rug as Jasper continued. "I'm, uh, moving out."

"What?" Edward's head jerked up and he took an involuntary step backward as if he'd been shoved. He recovered as quickly and smoothly as he could, but only verbally. The hurt was etched onto the facial expression he no longer attempted to control. "Um, okay. I'll, uh, just stay out of the way." His mind begged him to move, but his feet stayed planted. His body was waiting to catch up to what his brain already understood. Rejection.

He had been used to it, before, but he had never really opened himself up to people. He rarely allowed people in because he knew he was different, and he knew most wouldn't accept his flaws. His weirdness. But Jasper was unique. He was kind and understanding and knew when Edward needed to be pushed, the times most others would just leave him alone. Jasper's intuitiveness brought Edward farther out of his shell than he'd ever imagined he could go. He had come to rely on what his friend offered. The ear to listen, shoulder to cry on, and encouragement he needed when he hit a personal wall. Edward couldn't remember how he'd ever gotten through an entire day without the unconditional support and understanding his friendship with Jasper was based upon. He didn't want to try.

"Jas –" Edward didn't finish. Whether he hadn't had the nerve or didn't think it would have made any difference he didn't know.

"Take care of yourself, Edward." Jasper turned and left then, and Edward wondered when he'd see his friend again. He hadn't considered the possibility that the answer would be _never_.

* * *

><p>A loud knock at the door jerked Edward out of his memory and into the present. His eyes darted around the room, grasping his surroundings once again. And again, there was a slightly louder knock at the door.<p>

"Edward? Hey, Edward! You in there, man?"

_Emmett._Edward groaned, sinking back into the bed behind him. Before he could decide whether or not he wanted to actually answer, he heard the door to his apartment open and close.

"Edward?"

Edward jumped up, storming in a very clumsy fashion into the hallway to meet Emmett before he could get to his destination.

"What do you think you are doing here?" Edward was astounded at the calmness of his voice, though not surprised that he was able to put on the mask when his personal stakes were high. He'd had plenty of practice pretending.

"Hey, I just came by to –were you crying?"

Emmett looked genuinely confused, reminding Edward that he was in no shape to see company. He turned to go back into his bedroom, only to trip over his own shoe and slam face-first into the wall. "Ow!"

Emmett grabbed Edward's arm, pulling him back up and helping lead him into his room, gently urging him to sit on the bed. "Are you okay? That sounded rough."

As Edward surveyed the damage to his face and determined there were no serious injuries, he glanced up to see Emmett's less-than-concealed interest in the state of Edward's room.

"Oh, I was um, just going through some things."

Emmett glanced back at Edward, clearly not buying the line."Yeah, like natural disasters, or evil alien emperors attacking your apartment." He pushed through the piled clothes on the floor and sat next to Edward on the bed, crossing his arms awkwardly over his chest. "Man, look..."

"No. Don't start with me right now, please. I can't..." Edward stopped before his voice could crack; hoping Emmett would get the point. He, of course, didn't.

"I know it's hard, Edward. It is for all of us, you know?" Edward was thankful that Emmett kept his head down as he spoke. Silent sobs gently shook Edward's body.

"But look, you can't let it ruin you. I know what you're going through. You just have to move on, you know?"

"Move _on_? What do you mean, _move on_?" Edward felt crazed, but he didn't care. How dare someone say those words to him? Even if it was Emmett Whitlock.

"Look, I don't mean it like that, I just –"

"Like what? Like I need to just get over him?" Edward's voice began to shake again. He kept on, keeping his words as level as he could manage. "Don't tell me how to live, Emmett. You... you don't know, okay? You don't know how it was here. You don't know what happened. You don't know how it en –" Edward folded in on himself, resting his forehead on his knees as the tears overtook him. Again. He felt like there would be no end – like the tunnel he had been racing through for the past four months would just continue, building itself faster than Edward could run. Eventually he would fail. He would just have to stay there in the darkness forever. Alone.

He'd almost forgotten the unwelcome presence next to him until he felt a large, timid hand gently press into his back, patting in an awkward rhythm. "It's all right man, just get it out. It's gonna be all right."

It was two or three minutes later that Edward felt controlled enough to sit up, neither of the men looking directly at each other. The thank you sounded like more of a cough, and Emmett's reply was barely audible.

"So, uh, you need some help cleaning up?" Emmett glanced around the room again, clearly hoping Edward didn't take him up on the offer.

"No, thanks. I'll be okay."

They sat in silence a few more moments before Emmett piped up again, obviously fishing for some type of interaction. "What about some food? I'm starving."

Though he didn't even want to entertain the idea of pulling himself together for an entire meal, this was the first person in so long he felt he actually had something in common with. He could see the sadness in Emmett's eyes as clearly as he felt it in his own, and though he didn't want to discuss the source, he didn't want to ignore the kinship he felt.

"Yeah, food sounds good."

Emmett jumped up, taking advantage of the acceptance before it was taken away again. "Okay, how about that place Blueberry Hill? They've got some good grub."

Edward smiled to himself as he agreed, standing to follow Emmett from the room. Just as he was about to close the door he saw the tiny black corner of Jasper's pick still stuck under his dresser. Crossing his room to the dresser, he knelt down and pulled it free, twisting it around in his fingers. _No damage_, he thought absently.

"You coming, man?"

Edward jumped up, shoving the pick into his pocket as he jogged out of his apartment, his stomach growling the whole way.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hi Everyone! So so sorry for the long delay! No excuses, just apologies. :)**_

_**As always, huge thanks to my wonderful beta! And I'd also like to send some major love and hugs to Eirelav and Bells for being such awesome pre-readers! Love you guys!**_

_**Okay, back to Edward. Hope you enjoy!  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>It had been five months and two days since they had last spoken, and for the first time in even longer Edward was beginning to feel a twinge of normalcy returning to his life.<p>

"Man, I still can't believe she's only a senior! I mean, I know she's eighteen and all, but I just feel dirty even thinking about it, you know?"

Edward nodded halfheartedly as he strolled down the bread isle of his local grocery store, attempting to tune out Emmett's chatter. His newly-acquired – and definitely uninvited – roommate didn't seem to mind his uninterested audience. In fact, Edward figured he'd probably go on even if there was no audience at all.

He let a small, breathy chuckle escape through his nose as Emmett described, in more detail than Edward figured he'd have noticed, the way Alice's friend Rosalie's dress from the night before had complimented her figure so perfectly. The fashion assessment was immediately followed by more self-berating and superficial justifications.

"You don't think it's gross, right? It's cool that I think she's cool, isn't it?" Edward shrugged off Emmett's questions, deliberately focusing on a freshly cut loaf of sourdough bread. He picked it up, inhaling the warm, homey scent through the plastic before setting it gently into the cart.

Edward was barely maintaining his sanity when they finally made it back to the apartment. He flung his bags onto the counter and practically sprinted to his room, shutting the door before he could hear Emmett utter another word about the "smokin' blond bombshell". As he slipped on his headphones, he tried not to analyze the fact that he'd been completely lacking in the social department for the last five months, while Emmett had only been there a couple of weeks and already had a date lined up. Self pity was exhausting and entirely unproductive.

Flipping through the songs on his iPod, he found one of his younger guilty pleasures, twisting the volume up as the beat picked up. He'd always had a soft spot for The Cranberries, and they seemed to fend off the foul mood that had been brewing. He set the song on repeat and laid back on his bead, folding his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. He felt a smile creep across his face as he relaxed into the comfort and familiarity of it all, remembering laying the exact same way while listening to the exact same song over and over so long ago.

Edward jerked up into a sitting position, startled to realize he'd fallen asleep while the loud music still played in his ears. He pulled the ear-buds out and got up to see who had been banging on his door. He, of course, found Emmett on the other side. The ridiculous grin on his face made Edward want to slam it shut again, but instead he moved out of the way, allowing Emmett in.  
>"Sorry, I know you were sleeping but you've got to get ready, man! "<p>

"Huh?" Edward groggily glanced at the clock. _6:15_. He'd been asleep for nearly three hours, but couldn't think of why he needed to be awake. "Where are we going?"

"Dude, your sister just called. They want to go out again tonight! I told her we'd meet her at The Cat House in an hour. There's supposed to be some show there tonight, local talent or something. It sounds cool, though."

_No no no. _Edward felt his chest begin to tighten, his breaths coming in slightly shorter spurts than normal. "I… I can't."

"What? Why not? Come on, I know you're not into that scene, but can't you go just this once?"

Emmett seemed completely oblivious to Edward's physical reaction to the suggestion. He was far too focused on the prospect of losing his impromptu date with Rosalie.

"No! I'm… I…" Edward began to wheeze. He sat back on the bed, dropping his head between his knees – which always made him more dizzy than it did to help with his breathing, but he did it anyway.

It must have helped, because a few minutes later his breathing was finally returning to a normal pace. He sat up slowly to meet a very concerned and apologetic gaze.

"I didn't mean to, uh, make you upset, man. I'm sorry." Emmett looked at the floor as he asked what should have been assumed. "Is it something about that place? Something with my brother?"

Edward tensed, feeling his heart sink at the words. His chest nearly ached at the thought. He felt his control slipping once again. _No. You will _not_ let this happen. Pull it together, Edward. Be a man._

"I'm in." He his voice was barely above a whisper, but he hoped Emmett wouldn't question what he said. He didn't know if he could say it again.

He didn't remember there being a dress code at the club, so he was surprised to find Emmett decked out in what Edward might consider costume clothing when he emerged from his room. Emmett had donned a pair of charcoal slacks that looked fresh from the dry cleaners, along with a black v-neck sweater Edward would have been certain only a woman could pull off – until that moment, of course. Emmett seemed to radiate masculinity, and Edward felt very drab in his slightly-wrinkled jeans and the faded red Stanford t-shirt he had found at a thrift store.

Emmett didn't seem to notice Edward's insecurities. "Awesome, let's go!"

Edward followed behind, hesitantly climbing into the passenger's side of the Jeep that was parked in front of their building. Edward didn't like leaving without his own ride, but figured pulling up to a club on a ten-speed probably wouldn't earn him many cool-points. Having a panic attack wasn't going to do him much better, he reminded himself, breathing deeply as they sped away.  
>He heard the booming music before he saw the bright glow of the sign and the crowd standing outside. <em>Of course<em>. It was a Friday night, why wouldn't the place be packed? He attempted to convince himself that it would be easier to blend in rather than letting the claustrophobia bury him. Thankfully a familiar face was waiting at the entrance the minute he and Emmett rounded the corner – the face of someone who was fully prepared to help Edward get through the evening.

"Edward! Emmett!" Alice lifted herself onto her tip-toes to give Emmett a quick peck on the cheek before lacing her arm through Edward's and leading them both inside. "Rose is already at our table! This is going to be so fun!"

It was eighteen and over night at the club, Edward realized as he scanned the crowd. Every person in the place looked to be in high-school and seemed to be carrying the same drink – a brightly colored blended beverage with a matching straw and a glow-stick around the stem.

A group of passing girls bumped into Edward, giggling and eyeing him over their shoulders, the bunch clad in matching halter-top shirts and cutoff shorts that showed the creases at the tops of their legs. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes as Alice led him the rest of the way to their booth, careful to avoid contact with most of the buzzing crowd along their path.

Emmett had somehow obtained four of the mysterious beverages along the way, placing them each on the table as he scooted in next to Rosalie. He didn't waste any time, immediately immersing his date into a conversation that was far too hushed for Edward or Alice to hear.

Edward and Alice both quickly decided they preferred being left out, turning in their seats to face the dance floor as the sparks began to fly between the couple behind them.

Once they had both downed the disgustingly sweet passion-fruit flavored concoction that desperately needed alcohol, Edward noticed Alice scanning the club, her expression brightening every so often as he presumed she saw friends in the crowd. She cut her eyes over to him, her shoulders and eyes dropping as a guilty smile crept across her face.

"Go," Edward said as he angled his head toward the dance floor. Her eyebrows nearly met her hairline. "Really, it's okay. I'll be fine." Alice eyed the couple at the back of the booth again, cringing as she watched Emmett softly stroke Rosalie's arm while whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Edward shrugged. "They'll never know we're gone."

Alice jumped up and hugged Edward before bouncing off into the sea of people. Edward started heading the opposite way, hoping he would find the outskirts of the room to be less crowded. No such luck.

A man swiftly exiting a door marked Office turned and slammed into Edward, knocking him back a step. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" He stopped speaking when his eyes met Edward's, his face brightening noticeably.

Edward desperately scrambled for the courage to turn and run, but the man was already knee-deep in a conversation Edward never wanted to have.

"Oh _man_, you're here! I tried to call you after the last show but you must have changed your number or something, we've had mad requests to have you back here. I'm so glad you came by! Okay, look, I have to run right now but I'll be back in thirty. We've got a local show coming up here in about three weeks, The Scissors are playing, and a new group of kids called Platypus. I know, lame name but they're not half bad. Anyway, stay here! Thanks for coming!"

The man called the last line over his shoulder as he disappeared toward the back of the club before. Edward watched the crowd where the man had disappeared, processing the one-sided conversation and the possible repercussions. He turned around and began to walk the opposite direction, still with no destination except to be anywhere away from the Office.

Dancing lights and sticky, sweat-filled air were all Edward could see. The bodies just became debris he had to rifle through to find his way out. He tried not to remember they were people invading space, just focusing on each singular obstacle as it came. He was nearly to his breaking point when the promise of escape shone in a faded yellow word painted onto the wall in front of him.

** Restroom**

"Thank God." He bolted through the door with the un-skirted figure hanging on it and suppressed the urge to twist the lock, ensuring he had the bathroom all to himself. Instead he found the nearest stall, secured the door and sat on the toilet, letting his head rest in his hands. He fought back the sobs that he felt catching in his throat.

"Edward?"

He hadn't heard the door open, but Emmett's voice alerted him to the fact that his muffled cries weren't as quiet as he'd hoped. Emmett knocked on the stall door once. "Hey, um, are you okay? I saw you run in here, I just wanted to check on you."  
>Edward suppressed a groan. His roommate seemed to be everywhere he wasn't wanted, but was always trying to help. "I'm fine," he said as he reluctantly stood and opened the stall door. "Just needed to use the bathroom." His hoarse voice didn't do anything to help his story, but Emmett's unease kept him from prying. They both exited the restroom together to find Alice and Rosalie waiting in the hall, purses in hand.<p>

"You guys ready to go? This place is turning into a madhouse!" Alice asked, her voice deceptively cheery. Her eyes told Edward a different story, and he was, once again, thankful for her save.

Rosalie was "_absolutely famished_" and insisted that she and Emmett go grab some food, so Edward hitched a ride home with Alice instead. They'd nearly made it back to his apartment when she finally asked, "So what happened?"

He didn't even try to deflect. "I don't know, just freaked out I guess."

Alice watched the road thoughtfully for a few moments before speaking again. "Edward, I'm sorry." She brought the Bug to a halt in front of his building and looked at him sadly. "I thought you were ready. I thought maybe if you got out it would help you see that you were ready to, I don't know, move past this. " She didn't say any more. He barely acknowledged her apologies, giving her a cursory thank-you for the ride home before sprinting up the stairs and into his apartment, praying he had closed the door fast enough to lock reality outside and away from awareness.

An hour later Edward was sprawled on his bed, his face finally dry and his breathing returning to normal, yet again. He wished he could go to sleep, but emotional exhaustion did not equate with physical, apparently. Instead his brain replayed the events of the evening, trying to pinpoint where he went wrong. Where he lost it. The answer was glaringly obvious, but he hated the weakness that controlled him. He hated that someone from his past, even as insignificant as a club promoter, could evoke such a harsh emotional breakdown. He hated even more that nobody knew. He needed to let it out, to tell someone, but the only person who knew what happened that night was...

He jumped up and grabbed a pen and half-used notebook from his desk, practically throwing himself back onto the bed as he began writing.

_Jasper, I need you. More than anything. I'm sorry, I know you're not here, but I don't have anyone else. Please come back to me. I need you to come back to me._

_I don't understand why this is happening. The loneliness is crushing my soul. It's like every breath I take is just a little bit harder than the last. It's been that way since you left, and I don't know how to make it stop. And I'm mad at myself, too. I can't stop and see the light. I can't appreciate that I'm _alive_ and _walking_ and _talking_. I'm filled with this disgusting self-pity that I can't let go of. Why? Why do I have this cloud hanging over me? Why am I writing a letter to someone who will never be able to read it, complaining about _MY _life? Why am I this person?_

_I can hear you right now - in my head. I can hear what you would say to me while reading this. You are telling me to knock it off. Both the self-pity and the berating. You're reminding me that I'm human, and that I'll get past this, too. But I don't believe you. I want to, because I know you're always right, but I can't. Because it's been so long. Because this is harder than anything I've dealt with before. Because the only reason I've gotten past anything was because I had you. And I don't anymore._

_I loved you. I still do, Jasper. I can't go another minute in my head or on this paper without saying that. I love you more than I've ever loved anything before. And I don't want to go on believing in my heart and soul that you hated me when you died. I can't live with that feeling. The feeling that if I had done something differently, if I hadn't told you, things would be different. You might still be here._

_I know, I hear you. It's not my fault. I did what was right for me, and the events that followed were not my fault. I can hear you telling me that everything will be okay. Maybe I'm actually going crazy. It would make sense._  
><em>I want to reach out and touch the voice in my head. I can see you like you're sitting right here with me. It's scary, and sad. I miss you so much. Your smile and laugh, and the way your accent would come out after you'd been on the phone with your mom for too long. The way the left side of your mouth, the spot where you held your lucky pick, would lift up while you were writing a really good lyric. The way the world would drift away when you were around. I miss everything about you, Jasper Whitlock. Everything.<em>

_I went back there tonight, to the place where it all happened. I shouldn't have gone... I knew that as soon as I got there. I think my sister was in cahoots with your brother to try to get me out of the house. I guess I appreciate the fact that they care enough to try, but... It was a bad plan. And it wasn't even their fault. They didn't know. I guess nobody does, really. Everything good in my life happened there. I found my best friend, my music, my happiness, my first love... The whole place is filled with you. I want to live there and die there and run as far away from there as possible. I feel like I've completely lost control of my life._

_I'm skipping this semester at school. Maybe even dropping out, I don't know yet. I could transfer, I guess, I just don't feel motivated. I don't know why I'm going if I don't want to do anything. It's a waste._

_There's the crazy again. You're mad. Not steaming-mad, just stern. You always had more aspirations and drive than I did. You don't want me to lose the little bit of motivation I had mustered up, but I have, Jasper. I don't know what to tell you, but it's gone. Please don't be mad... I can't stand it when you make that disappointed face._

_And now I'm having an imaginary conversation with a ghost. I have to go, before goblins and fairies storm in and start raiding the apartment for buckets of gold and skittles._

_I love you, so much._  
><em>Always.<em>  
><em>Edward<em>

Setting the letter on his nightstand, Edward let his head fall to rest on his pillow as he stared out the window into the black night. And he realized then that, for the first time in so long, he was smiling. A genuine, Edwardian smile. His chest still ached, but somewhere in there, underneath all the heartache and loss and loneliness, he felt peace. Comfort. Jasper.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Hi, stranger!**_

_**I don't expect anyone to still be hopeful for this update, since I sure wasn't for awhile, and I'm sorry for letting this thing linger so long. But I'm so excited to finally have it done, even if I am the only one still interested :). **_

_**Edward has been in my head and my heart since I started this story, and he just could not let me go another day without giving him closure. So, Edward, I hope you are happy with how the rest of your story begins, here.**_

* * *

><p>Edward lounged on his couch, thumbing through the badly-worn notebook he seemed to carry with him everywhere. He laughed to himself as he examined the array of different material it contained - message notes, bored doodles, song lyrics, grocery lists, and letters - wondering what someone else flipping through might gather about his personality.<p>

_Sloppy, unorganized, chaotic, hungry, in love. _For once, though, his thoughts weren't angry or berating, but amused. He sighed as he came across a letter dated just over three months prior. The words on the page were crooked and looked as though they'd been written with a shaky hand.

_Hi Jasper. _

_How are you? _

_Where are you? What is it like there? _

_I miss you._

Writing to Jasper had been so difficult in the beginning. He had tried to recreate the sense of urgency that seemed to open him up in the first letter, but he could never quite find what he wanted to say. Words had evaded him, once again.

_Hi Jasper. _

_Dear Jasper,_

_Um, how are you? I- have no idea why I just asked that._

_Edward_

_..._

_Hey, it's me again. I'm just... trying. It's not working, but I'm trying._

_..._

_Jasper,_

_I don't know what to say._

_I can't hear you anymore. I try and try, but there's nothing. I talked to you last night, out loud, even. I think Emmett thought I was talking to myself... I suppose I was._

_You didn't answer. I don't know how to get you back. I want you back._

_Edward_

_..._

_Hey, it's me. _

_Of course it's me._

_He called again. Chris did. He keeps asking me to play - no, to _Headline _a show. I don't know what to say. Tell me what to say._

_Edward_

_..._

_Hey,_

_He keeps calling. I'm terrified. I don't know if I can do it... sit out there, in front of all those people, and play my music. But a part of me, a little part in the back of my mind, really wants to try. I really _want _to try._

_I guess I'm afraid of myself. I'm the only one who can really screw this up, and I think I will. I'm not going to call him back._

_I still love you, Jasper._

_Edward_

_..._

_Jasper, I heard you today. Well, kind of. I heard you _play_._

_I picked up my guitar for the first time in a long time today, and the song just came out. You know, _the _song; the one we wrote together. And when it was your cue, you came right in. It was all in my head, of course, but it was... amazing._

_I miss everything about you. Everything._

_Love,_

_Edward_

_..._

The next page looked wrinkled and worn, even though it was the newest letter he had written. He sighed, a smile on his lips and a tear in his eye, as he read on.

_Jasper! I need you right now. _

_I need you to be here with me, giving me a hug and celebrating._

_Alice called me earlier, completely frantic. I couldn't understand anything she was saying, but I managed to make out two distinct words: Dad. Awake._

_I just got back from the house, and he's there, Jasper. He's _back_._

_I can't describe how much I want to share this moment with you. How much I wished you were there with me. How much I wanted you to hug me and tell me that, like you had said all along, everything would turn out okay. I would be okay. I don't think you thought he would make it, but you always knew I would be okay._

_I'm okay, Jasper. I am so mad at myself for that, too, because I don't _want _to be okay without you, but I am. I hurt, and I cry, but I'm fighting through it every day, and I'm okay._

_I love you._

_Edward_

Edward flipped another page in the notebook to reveal a photograph folded in half, Jasper's face smiling brightly up at him. He looked at it for a moment before opening it up, knowing what he would find on the other side..

The photograph was of the two of them at the Cat House, arms around one another, laughing together about something Edward couldn't recall. They looked so relaxed, so happy.

Edward sat staring at the photo for a long time, reminiscing. He was surprised when, after a few minutes, he found his breathing to be normal. He had fully expected to have an attack, but none of the warning signs were there. Instead he felt small droplets forming on his lower lids and falling softly down his cheeks and around the smile that had spread across his face.

Lost in thought and in the happiness of the moment, he took a few beats too long to react when the front door flung open, revealing Emmett's smiling face.

"Hey, I..." Emmett fell silent when he met Edward's tearful gaze as he sloppily tucked the picture into the middle of the notebook.

"Sorry, I was just-"

"No, don't be sorry. It's okay." Emmett hesitantly made his way around to the couch, taking a seat next to Edward and gently tugging the picture out of the notebook. He let out a small sigh.

"Look..." He paused for a long time before starting over. "Look, I'm not good at saying this stuff, so I'm just gonna do it. My brother loved you, and not like he loved me. He really _loved_ you, man."

Edward didn't respond, both because he couldn't find his words and because he wouldn't know what to say even if he could.

"Jasper was raised differently - with different values than most of us. When he went with Dad, well, it pretty much killed Mom. She knew it wasn't right, but it was what Jasper wanted and she couldn't afford us both. She should've tried harder, I could've..." Emmett sat silent, lost in his own thoughts for a minute before regaining his resolve.

"Dad was a true Southern man, but from a different era. He was a member of the modern Confederacy, and believed just as the originals did up until the day he died. That was all Jasper knew until you.

"When you came around, I felt a change in him. He would talk to me before, but never like he did about you. You woke him up, made him see things differently. You helped open his eyes to things he could really enjoy, like music. He never would have known his love for it if it weren't for you."

Emmett sighed again. "He was in love with you, Edward. He may not have known it, but I did. I think you did, too."

Edward did the only thing he could do in that moment. He wept. He wept until the sun began to set, and Emmett stayed by his side, silent but strong for his friend. His brother.

* * *

><p><em>It has been eight months, four days, eleven hours and nine minutes since I last saw you, and I never thought I'd make it here. I'm genuinely optimistic about my future, and I haven't felt that since… well, since you were here with me.<em>

_I'm sitting backstage at the Cat House right now, getting ready for my show that starts in five minutes. __My show__. I know, it's crazy, right? I can't really believe I'm sitting here, so calm and collected. No panic attacks, no hyperventilating. It's all thanks to you, Jas. You gave me this peace I feel today. Even after you're gone, your love and spirit stays. You amaze me every day._

_Well, they're kicking me out onto the stage, so I've got to go. I'll let you know how it goes._

_I love you, Jasper._

_Edward_

Edward set the battered and beloved spiral notebook on a small table and took one last, deep breath before parting the curtain and stepping out onto the stage. The crowd, larger than he expected, roared. He knew the majority in attendance were probably friends of Alice, Rosalie and Emmett, but it didn't matter. He felt like a rock star.

"Hey, everyone," he said softly into the microphone. Then, a touch louder, "I'm Edward. Thanks for coming out tonight, I hope you enjoy the show."

A small hand shot up toward the front of the crowd, a cell phone light shining dimly out of it. With the stage lights directed at his face he could barely make out the word "DADDY" on the phone's face. He followed the offending arm down to see Alice's glowing smile as she waved the phone in the air and mouthed "_Dad's here" _proudly to her brother.

He almost dedicated the first song to his father. Almost.

His family was there, his friends were there, and an entire crowd of complete strangers were there cheering him on. But in that moment, he felt a warmth and comfort envelop him that he knew only with one person.

There could have been thousands of people before him, but as far as he was concerned it was an audience of one.

"This one's for Jasper."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thank you for reading. Thank you for waiting, and reading again, and sticking with me through this short but never-ending journey. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did!<strong>_


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